Bed of Deceit
by BellalunaMcKenzie
Summary: Alternate Universe; He was no fool yet never suspected the treachery, deceit and lies that shattered his life. But Fate would not forsake her child. You know the saying: Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice…
1. Chapter 1

**Bed of Deceit**

 **Author's note** : All appearances will follow the show's representation. However, since this is an AU, it will differ from historical events and also the show's storylines. Some things will remain the same but much will have changed. Be warned.

Also, this new project of mine was started as a pastime. I have quite a bit of the story pre-written but for some reason, I have never been able to write a story in a linear fashion. My inspiration/muse decides to strike in a very random fashion. Some chapters, no matter where they actually are located in the story, just write themselves and I have to work hard to be able to fill in the blanks in between. To top it all off, I have very little free time for myself. Therefore, I cannot offer a set update schedule. I apologize in advance for that and I hope you can bear with me.

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own The Tudors or any characters that belong to the show/history. However, all original characters are mine.

*/*/*

 **Chapter 1: Nightmares**

 **McKenzie Estates, Dukedom of Orkney, Scotland**

 **20 May 1537**

The moon shone through the tapestries covering the windows of the Duchess of Orkney's bedchambers, casting its soothing light on her skin yet her sleep was far from peaceful. Beneath her closed eyelids, images flashed at a rapid pace...painful memories bubbling back to the surface of her mind.

 _Two cold blue eyes had stared her down._

" _After all, a life so young, so fragile, can easily be snuffed out."_

" _You BASTARD!" she had yelled, indignantly. "How DARE you threaten the life of my son!" With blinding white fury coursing through her veins, her hand had flown at his face before she could even register what had happened. Only the resonating sound of it colliding at full force with his cheek had clued her in. That and the icy flash of pure indignation he had thrown back at her while wiping the tiny speckle of blood from the corner of his mouth. Yet, it had not deterred her from her anger. "Wait until my husband hears of your traitorous behavior. He will never stand for it and you will know…"_

 _She had not been able to finish her sentence. In a split second, he had pounced on her, pushing her backwards against the wall. With a gleeful snicker, he had brought his face millimeters from her own._

" _Oh I know exactly what I_ will _know." The crazed gleam that had appeared in his eyes at that moment had turned her fiery blood to ice, the innuendo in his statement becoming clear._

NO! HE WOULDN'T DARE!

 _How wrong she had been…_

 _Before she had been able to react, he had brought his hand over her mouth while the other reached beneath her nightshirt, eager to touch her delicate and most sacred skin._

 _Horror had struck her as she felt his hot breath, laced with the unmistakable scent of ale, on her neck as he pressed himself against her, his hardened manhood grinding painfully against her sensitive stomach. Reacting on impulse, she had sunk her teeth into the hand that was covering her mouth, biting down with ferocity._

 _He had yelped in pain and released her momentarily, allowing her to rush past him in an attempt to escape his madness. But he had recuperated from the shock of her bite very quickly – much too quickly to her own liking – and unwilling to let such a worthy prey escape his clutches, he had launched himself after her, managing to catch her near the bed._

" _So you like to play rough? Fine by me. I will give you rough. I can handle my_ whores _. You will be no different."_

 _She had wanted to retort that she was no whore but he had thrown her down on the bed and climbed on top of her to restrict her movements. With one swift move, he had reached for the nightshirt and promptly pulled it towards him, ripping it from her body, exposing the flesh of her breasts._

" _I must give_ him _that, he sure knows how to pick a beautiful woman." With heat swarming her cheeks, she had tried to cover herself with her arms to preserve her dignity but he had stopped her. "No need to be so modest. Everyone knows you are the Great Whore."_

" _HELP! SOMEONE, H…" He had once again covered her mouth quickly with his bleeding hand._

" _Hush with you, sweetling. You will enjoy this, I promise." Tears had gathered in her eyes, burning, as he had proceeded to remove his doublet, realization that in her weakened state following the birth of her son, she was most likely to suffer the most horrible fate a woman could possibly be subjected to. Bracing herself for the inevitable, she had not heard the door open and another woman enter._

" _Dear brother, I was wondering what was taking you so long to return to…" The sweet voice had abruptly stopped._

 _Realizing someone else was in the room, she had felt a renewed surge of hope and whipping her head to the side, she had looked into the face of the intruder…only for that hope to evaporate instantly. Her attacker had still not moved off of her, keeping his hand firmly on her mouth._

" _Sister, I would be eternally grateful if you turned around and walked out of here, pretending you didn't see anything. I will be with you as soon as I am finished with our little plan." Much to her horror, the other woman had nodded and turned to leave._

I will not go down without a fight, _she had thought._ Curse you and your horrible family! _In an ultimate surge of self-preservation, she had brought her right knee upward with the last of her strength, colliding with his ribs violently._

 _The shock of the attack had taken the man by surprise, enough to dislodge him from her and he had fallen off the bed in pain, a string of expletives escaping his mouth._

 _At the sound of her brother's voice, the woman had turned back around only to see her rush out of the bed._

" _STOP HER! Do NOT let her escape!"_

 _Obeying her brother, the woman had closed the door behind her and stepped in front of it, blocking the only way out of the room. Still shaken from the vicious attack on her person, she had swallowed her pride and uttered the last words she ever thought she would say to the other woman._

" _Help me, please."_

 _To add further shock, the sister of her attacker had simply laughed in her face._

" _I don't think so."_

" _How DARE you?" she had then roared. "I knew you were nothing but a pale wench snake but to refuse aid to your Mistress, who has been attacked under your roof by your own kin, is treason!"_

" _Treason? I see this as poetic justice. You are only reaping what you sowed. And, after tonight, I will never fear you again for you will be nothing and have no more power. You are finished." Turning towards her brother, who had still been writhing in pain on the floor, she smiled. "Toughen up, get up, have your fill and arrange for her disposal. I will put our plan in motion as soon as you join me in my bedchambers to discuss our next step."_

 _With that bland dismissal and clear indication as to her fate after this horrible night, she had seen red. In a last-ditch attempt to save her life, she had rushed at the other woman, intending to tackle her out of the way of the door and make her escape. But the blonde traitoress had anticipated her move and grabbed a candlestick… It was the last thing she had seen before everything went black._

The Duchess of Orkney's eyes snapped open and she sprung into a sitting position on the bed, her heart racing and sweat trickling down the back of her neck. A small cry escaped her dry lips.

Almost immediately, one of the ladies of her household rushed to her side.

"My Lady! What is the matter?"

Still too shaken by her dream, she could not answer. Tears spilled forth from her eyes, much to her dismay.

Recognizing the distress her mistress suffered from, Baroness Eleanor Fraser stood there for a few minutes and waited until the Duchess had taken a few deep breaths and calmed down.

"My Lady, do you want me to fetch Lady Lockhart?"

"It won't be necessary. I simply had nightmares. I will be fine."

"Are you sure, my Lady?"

"Yes. You may return to your bed, Mistress Fraser."

As soon as the woman left her inner bedchamber, she reclined onto her pillows. Her heart still hammered loudly inside her chest. Then, she realized what day it was.

 _It has been a year today._

It had been a year since the attempt on her life…an attempt that had almost succeeded and torn her life, as she knew it, asunder.

*/*/*

 **Hampton Court, London, England**

 **20 May 1537**

 _King Henry Tudor VIII had been riding with anticipation and exchanging pleasantries with his childhood best friend, Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk and his brother-in-law, George Boleyn, Viscount Rochford, when suddenly, someone had interrupted Brandon's latest jest._

" _Smoke! Smoke on the horizon! Over Savernake Forest!"_

" _Isn't Wolf Hall in that direction?" another of his groomsmen had questioned._

 _His heart had stopped. Wolf Hall… Their destination… Where his Queen, his most beloved wife Anne, had been brought urgently the previous day, once her water had unexpectedly broken while enjoying one last day out before she was to enter her confinement for the remaining three to four weeks of her pregnancy… Where his newest child – son or daughter – had been born in the late hours of the evening…_

 _To his left, Anthony Knivert had appeared._

" _Majesty. My Lords. I suggest we quicken our pace. A simple fire wouldn't produce that much smoke and…"_

 _He had not had the chance to finish his sentence. Henry had dug the heels of his boots in his horse's ribs, causing it to spring forward in a swift gallop. Behind him, his retinue had followed suit._

 _A whirlwind of leaves and trees had flashed in his vision but he had not noticed. His mind had been focused on one thing and one thing only. Getting to his wife…_

Anne!

 _Her name had kept echoing in his head, more frantically each second that passed. A knot had formed in the pit of his stomach and his blood ran cold with fear. He had barely heard Charles calling to him from behind._

" _Majesty! Majesty! Henry!"_

 _He had refused to stop, the urgency of getting to his wife pulsing within his veins and preventing his muscles from stopping the furious gallop of his steed._

 _It hadn't been long before a tickle in his throat had forced his brain to snap and register he'd been inhaling smoke. That's when he had become aware of the scenery he'd been quickly approaching and brought his horse to a screeching halt._

 _The cold grips of fear had trapped his heart even further._

 _The magnificent residence that had been Wolf Hall only just a few hours ago was now nothing more than a smoking mound of ash and wood still being licked by flames._

NO!

" _Henry." Suffolk's voice had reached his ear at the same moment he had felt his friend's hand on his shoulder._

" _WHAT?" he'd unwillingly snapped._

" _Look." To their right, Thomas Seymour had approached him, followed by several other men and women._

" _Your Majesty," they had curtseyed and bowed._

" _What happened here?" George had echoed one of the questions on his mind. A young woman had answered._

" _As you can see, my Lord Rochford, a fire has claimed our beloved childhood home."_

" _I am not stupid, woman. I can see that. What I am enquiring about is how did it happen?"_

 _Henry had not heard a single word that had been said._

" _Where is her Majesty, the Queen? Where is my wife?" Silence had befallen the group as soon as the words had left his mouth._

 _The grip on his heart had tightened even further._

" _Answer the King, you peasant fool!" Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, had snapped, his patience running dangerously thin._

" _Your Majesty, her Majesty is…" A loud wail had interrupted him. Everyone's eyes had darted to one of the blonde ladies walking to them, holding a squirming tiny infant in her arms. Elizabeth Seymour._

" _My Lords. Your Majesty," she had said respectfully, foregoing the usual curtsy due to the child she was carrying, and had approached Henry, handing him the baby. "God has been merciful and blessed England with a strong and healthy Prince, at long last."_

 _Henry's brain had registered the implications behind her words instantly. Anne, whose honor to introduce their newborn child to him belonged to, wasn't here to do so. It could only mean that… His heart had simply sunk, breaking into a million tiny pieces._

 _Beside him, the same knowledge had flooded through George's mind._

" _NO!" the young man had yelled, taking a few steps forward only for Brandon to step in front of him and prevent him from moving further. "You're lying!"_

" _As much as it pains me to say the words, my Lord, the Queen – God bless her eternal soul – was taken from us this night by the flames that wrought this destruction on our home. Nobody, aside from everyone present here, could have possibly survived."_

 _Charles' head had snapped back to the younger Seymour daughter at that._

" _Then how come you, your brother and this handful of servants did?" he had snarled, risking a look at Henry. Thomas had answered in her stead._

" _We were the first awoken by the smoke, my Lord Suffolk. Despite the flames having already spread considerably, I sent my sister to safety and rushed to the master bedchamber to retrieve our royal guest. The Queen only had time to entrust me with the Prince's safety and hand him over before the roof collapsed in, trapping her inside. She begged me to run and save the child. I tried to reason with her but she would not listen, insisting there was no time to spare. 'An heir cannot be replaced, Master Seymour. A wife can. Go and save the King's son!' she said."_

 _Henry had still been rooted in place, his baby son squirming in his arms, staring at the destruction and desolation before him. He had heard Seymour's explanation but his brain had still been stuck on the horrible truth; his beloved Anne was gone. The iron grip that had taken hold of his heart since the smoke had been spotted over Savernake Forest became vicious, sucking the joy and happiness over finally having a perfectly healthy male heir right out of him._

" _I wanted to save her," Seymour continued, oblivious to the turmoil and agony raging inside his sovereign. "Everything in me screamed to find a way to save Her Majesty as well, as was my duty, but she would not stop pleading with me to go. So, I did. I ran out as fast as I could, determined to hand over the Prince to Elizabeth and go back in the inferno but Mister Zouche and Mister Slater here would not allow me. 'Master Seymour, it is far too dangerous and far too late. Surely, the staircase is no more by now.' They were right and dragged me out while the fire consumed my family's beloved ancestral house. We could hear the screams and agonizing cries from all the way here…"_

 _The more Thomas continued on, the whiter Henry and George's faces had become. Charles had noticed and raised his hand._

" _That is quite enough. Sir Knivert," he had motioned to his friend "please, ride to Great Bedwyn and inform Sir Hugh Graham that he is to host the King and his retinue as guests for the night. Also, ask him to take in the surviving members of the Seymour household for the foreseeable future and…"_

Henry was startled awake, his heart hammering furiously within his chest. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust to the darkness of the room.

"Anne…" Her name escaped his lips as a murmur as his eyes burned with unshed tears.

A year, he realized…today marked a year to the day since the true love of his life had been taken away from him… A year since his heart had shattered beyond repair and its remnants locked behind an impenetrable wall of ice, the only rays of sunlight able to bypass it being his children. He closed his eyes.

"Anne…oh my love…"

Images of her devastatingly charming smile, her sapphire blue eyes – hooks to the soul – and her shiny raven black hair danced behind his eyelids, setting his heart ablaze. She had been the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. No matter what had been going on, whether they had been arguing, making love or simply presiding over their court, Anne had always been beautiful. Not even the aftershock of labor had taken away from her beauty. She had been like a shining star and like them, she had left an permanent mark in the world.

"How I miss you, my own sweetheart…"

Tears now fell freely on his cheek, his grief finally finding release…

"Henry? What is the matter?"

The voice, sweet and gentle, acted like thunder and immediately caused his heart to shut down once more, the ice hardening anew. Swiftly wiping his face, he cleared his throat.

"Nothing. I simply had a cramp in my leg. It has passed. Go back to sleep, Jane." Her eyes searched his for a moment before she simply turned around.

*/*/*

 _If you are interested, I recommend checking out 'The Secret' by Adam Hurst on youtube to get an idea of what music inspired me to write these two scenes. Music inspires me a lot. Thought I would share._


	2. Chapter 2

**Bed of Deceit**

 **Author's note:** Well, this chapter turned out longer than I expected. Gotta love when characters who were only supposed to have minimal appearance – cough cough…Mary – end up wrestling their way to a powerful performance. Lol. Furthermore, while I was initially a little anxious to post this work of mine (I haven't written in so long or posted anything), I am glad to see my fear of being an awful writer alleviated. In any case, I hope you enjoy and review.

 **Reviewer love** : Big thanks to HenryxAnnefan, JoeKS, QueenAnneTudor and Wishing for Dragons for their reviews. I appreciated the enthusiasm and look forward to see if you continue to like BoD.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Tudors or any character that belong to the show/history. However, all original characters are mine.

*/*/*

 **Chapter 2: Indestructible**

 **Hampton Court, London, England**

"I hope the food is to your liking, your Excellency?"

Robert Tulloch's hazel eyes shot up from his plate to the expectant face of the King of England. Smiling graciously, he nodded.

"It is most delicious, your Majesty. Brings back memories from my homeland."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I am surprised English cooks were able to bring a taste from Scotland to your table, if I may be so bold."

Henry laughed good-heartedly.

"You may. I am satisfied with your critique for that is what I aimed for specifically tonight."

Surprise etched on Robert's facial features, something that didn't escape Henry's sharp eye.

"Oh?"

"Given that it is your last night at our court, we could not let you depart and reward your many years of efficient service without a token of our appreciation, now could we? No, my dear friend. Such devotion and hard work needed to be repaid and what a better way than give you a taste of the home you will soon return to."

The Scottish Ambassador did not know what to say. Henry continued.

"While they are not from Scotland, the cooks whom prepared this meal are from the Welsh Marshes and were selected amongst the finest that could be found on such short notice. Close enough, I'd say."

"Indeed, your Majesty. But while I am deeply honored your royal person went to such lengths for little and humble me, I simply feel undeserving of it all."

"Nonsense!" Henry exclaimed. "Your Excellency again and again proved me how devoted and good-hearted he is. You respect of today's festivities hasn't gone unnoticed. It makes you a great, nay, honorable man. I cannot express my thanks enough for such a display. "

"It came from the heart." was all Robert replied, a lump forming in his throat at the painful reminder. The King may not have meant to stir the subject up but he had nonetheless. Tears welled in his eyes, forcing him to look at the ceiling for a moment.

Today had been an emotional challenge for near every living soul in England. And while he was not English by birth, Tulloch himself had felt the deep and charged sense of loss that had permeated the Kingdom.

On this day, England had come together to celebrate the memory of their beloved late Queen, Anne Boleyn Tudor.

Rain had poured sporadically throughout the day, as if the angels themselves had wept for the woman who had been tragically stolen away from her family, her friends and her subjects. Still, it hadn't deterred the whole of London from taking part in the elaborate ceremonies the King had organized with the help of his eldest daughter, who had been the chief mourner at her stepmother's funeral. And if that hadn't been enough, people from all over the Kingdom had flocked to the capital as well. If the sheer amount of courtiers present in the Great Hall at this very moment was any indication, Robert wouldn't be surprised to learn every inn and gentry's home were packed at maximum capacity.

 _Good Queen that she was, she deserved the adulation, respect and outpour of grief her subjects demonstrated today._

Robert Tulloch had taken over the post of Ambassador of Scotland in the summer of 1527, about a year before the sweating sickness had ravaged the Kingdom and claimed the life of Katherine of Aragon. At the time, Anne had already caught the King's eye and captured his heart. However, she had refused to become his mistress and remained respectful of her Queen as much as she possibly could – or at least, as much as Henry had allowed her to –.

He had witnessed firsthand how their loved had blossomed and evolved, all the while developing quite a fondness of the young woman, for she was well educated and quite the astute politician. He remembered, with melancholy now, how interested she had been in promoting French and Scottish interests alike, always asking for news of the two Kingdoms, eager for information not out of deceit but simple curiosity. She had entertained him on many occasions, challenging his wits and pushing him to appreciate England's charms. Truthfully, without her, he would have given up on his ambassadorship at the end of his two-year contract, as planned, for he had felt neglected and shunned by her predecessor. Indeed, Katherine of Aragon had never been very keen of Scotland, preferring to improve Spanish relations over any other.

But all that had become water under the bridge when Anne's role at court had become more prominent. She, as opposed to her predecessor, had opted not to favor any alliance in particular, considering every Kingdom of equal value. And now…now…her loss had left a profound void in the heart of the people, in her birth country and all over Europe alike, including himself.

"An honorable sentiment, your Excellency. We are touched and equally as thankful as our sovereign."

Robert's eyes met with the cobalt blue irises of Thomas Boleyn.

 _The man has aged considerably since her Majesty's death._

It was true. Anne's loss had devastated her father and his grief had prematurely left scars of age upon the elder man's features.

"Ah, my Lord Wiltshire! We are glad to see you finally returned to court!"

"It is an honor, as always, your Majesty."

"I trust your journey to the Netherlands was pleasant?"

With the King's attention on the Duke of Wiltshire, Ambassador Tulloch resumed eating while letting his hazel orbs trail over the Great Hall. Everywhere he looked, the same grief that swam in his heart was reflected in the eyes of courtiers.

 _Nay. Almost…everywhere._

Upon his sight landing to the right of the King, a wave of cold fury rose within him. The woman sitting there, as well as the two standing little ways behind her…their eyes held no grief…at all. All he could read was contempt, boredom and annoyance…and it infuriated him on a level he never knew was even possible.

 _Her most beloved, kind and fair late Majesty would spin in her grave if she saw that pathetic excuse of a human being sitting next to the King, upon HER throne, ungratefully and wrongfully laying claim to HER title._

Jane Seymour.

Even just her name was enough to set his blood ablaze with hatred. He had never liked the woman, from the very first time they had met. She had timidly looked at him, from the spot she had been standing on amongst Katherine's ladies, and immediately, repulsion had echoed within his heart, on all levels. She had stirred a deep-seated feeling of enmity and that feeling had grown even stronger over the ten years he had been employed at the English court. First, when he had become aware she had set out to catch the King's eye. Then, when she had – deliberately, he knew for a fact due to his trustworthy sources – arranged for the Queen to catch her kissing the King while she dealt with difficulties over her latest pregnancy. Following the scandal, the insolent little trollop had started to flout protocol, as well as her duties, where her Mistress was concerned. Her increasingly haughty attitude had only worsened her case but the point of no return had been reached in the days following the Queen's death. Her open disrespect and utter indifference, albeit veiled for the King's sake, had forever buried the 'pale wench' – as the Boleyns, Howards and most of the royal households had taken to calling her out of earshot – in his esteem.

But today…today…of all days…, she had proven him how utterly rotten she truly was at her core. And he had fiercely battled, with all his might, the near-incontrollable urge that had been simmering within him to walk up to her and ring her neck for all to see.

He could feel that urge rising again as he watched her sitting there, pretending to a throne and a title she was the last person on earth worthy of.

Oh how he couldn't wait for the morrow to come and return to his homeland, away from this grotesque insult to the memory of the loveliest woman he had ever been gifted to know!

The sound of a hand colliding strongly with the wooden dining table broke him out of his thoughts.

"His Excellency hasn't even heard a word of what we have been saying!" Henry exclaimed with mirth in his eyes.

Robert's own refocused on the King, a sly smirk stretching on his lips.

"I beg your pardon, Majesty. My mind drifted to my children, whom I haven't seen in many months. It will be a joy to see them again."

"Ah! Perfectly understandable!"

"Yes," the Duke of Wiltshire agreed. "…our time with our children passes us by so fast, no minute should ever be wasted."

"I echo the sentiment. Ever since that fateful day a little more than a year ago…"

Tulloch couldn't help but notice that even now, after all this time, the King couldn't bring himself to mention the tragedy in question by name.

"...I, myself, find that there is never enough time when I visit the children in the nursery, and that in spite of the fact that I see them near every day. Every single time, I swear, they have grown more than the last."

"The Princess Elizabeth, Princess Rose and Prince Liam are fine children, Majesty. They do you and their late mother credit. England ought to be proud of her heirs. "

"She is." Henry replied, paternal pride illuminating his features. "All four of them."

The Ambassador nodded, understanding the reference.

It had been one point of contention between the late Queen and the King for the longest time, starting from their official betrothal up until her death: the legitimacy status of his eldest daughter, Mary, and her place within the Succession.

Even before the sweating sickness had taken Katherine's life, Anne had shown respect and care for the princess. She had made many overtures of friendship to the young lady and her efforts, while resisted at first, had eventually born fruits. Of course, the restraint she had displayed in deference to the feelings of the younger woman's sainted mother and subsequent – and sincere – outward display of utmost respect after her predecessor's passing had further endeared her to Henry's eldest daughter, as well as the rest of the Kingdom and Europe. The two had become quite close over the years and Anne had made it one of her primary concerns to champion Mary's rights. However, her husband had proven stubborn and resisted his wife's attempts as much as he could, giving very little ground to what the Queen had considered of the utmost importance.

Anne's perseverance on the matter had often angered the King but born fruits nonetheless, as small as they had been; thanks to her stepmother, Mary had ultimately regained her legitimacy and title of Princess AND been returned to court, where she had been reconciled with her father. However, Henry had utterly refused to restore her to the succession, even after any of his children with Anne, present and future.

The Queen hadn't been happy over the decision but decided to settle for what she had been able to give back to her stepdaughter…for the moment. It had been clear to him that she intended to raise the issue again at some point in the future. And he just knew she would have…if her life hadn't been so tragically cut short.

But Fate works in mysterious ways and seven months after the loss of his beloved wife, Henry had surprised Mary by not only restoring her to the Succession behind her three younger siblings but also ennobled her, bestowing the title of Duchess of Devonshire upon her in her own rights and to be inherited by her offspring. The elevation had not only honored Anne's memory, and long-time wishes, but also created the princess a duchess twice over, due to her marriage four months prior.

"Speaking of, Majesty, I noticed Her Highness' absence from tonight's feast. Given how close she was to the late Queen, it comes as a surprise."

"It is nothing to be concerned about, Excellency," the King assured him. "Her Highness simply had other matters to tend to before joining us. I have no doubt she will be here shortly."

"His Majesty just informed us of your imminent departure, Ambassador," Boleyn interjected. "We are, and I speak for the Boleyns and Howards alike, saddened by such news. You have always been a dear friend and held in very high esteem by us. You will be missed."

"The feeling is mutual, my Lord Wiltshire. Alas, my time on English soil must come to an end. The loss of your most beloved daughter has proven too much to bear even now, a little over a year after it occurred. Without her vibrant, beautiful and charming self, court has lost its appeal to me and while I honored the last year of my contract out of deference to her memory, I simply cannot remain where I find no joy to be. I mean no offense, your Majesty."

"None taken, Excellency. What you say is true. The English court has lost its light, its shining star."

"It remains, nonetheless, quite a pleasant and distinguished court."

"Of course. Still, as the Duke said, your person will be missed."

"I am confident your Majesty will be satisfied with my successor and equally appreciative of his eagerness to please in any way possible. Lord McKenzie and I have known each other for the longest time, ever since we were wee bit lads, in fact. We were taught by the same tutors and hold the Anglo-Scottish relations in the highest regard. He will be a fine replacement, of that I give you my word."

"We are pleased to hear so."

Their conversation was halted by the booming voice of the royal crier and the two subsequent loud thumps of his staff colliding with the floor.

"Her Highness, the Princess Mary, Duchess of Devonshire and Ormonde!"

All eyes in the Great Hall darted to the door where Mary entered, richly dressed in a midnight blue gown. She held her head high and walked up the aisle toward the royal dining table, carrying herself gracefully with a gentle smile on her lips. As she passed them, courtiers stood up and bowed to her as was required then sat back down in their seat, waiting to resume their meal and conversations.

Once in front of dais, she dropped in an elegant curtsey – perfected by her beloved former stepmother at her request – and lowered her eyes to the floor.

"Your Majesty," she greeted her father in a warm and loving voice. "Your Excellency, My Lord Wiltshire. My Lord husband." Then, her voice lost all warmth, replaced with chilling coldness. "Lady Jane." Without another word, she rose and made her way to the seat between her father-in-law and George.

Immediately, the Great Hall became abuzz with conversations once more as courtiers resumed eating and musicians resumed their playing.

"My dear daughter," Henry began, "we are overjoyed that you are gracing us with your presence tonight. His Excellency, Ambassador Tulloch, had just expressed his concern over your absence."

"I apologize for my tardiness but today's events allowed me very little time with my daughter and I simply needed to see her for a few moments."

"Just as I predicted! And how is my lovely granddaughter?"

"Her governess Lady Ashley assures me Annabella is as healthy and lively a babe as she has ever seen, even sometimes comparing her to my beloved sisters and brother."

"Good." Henry replied, happy to see his eldest radiating pride, happiness and joy.

"Speaking of, Father, where are their Highnesses?" Before he could reply, Jane beat him to it.

"They departed for Hatfield late this morn."

From the corner of her eye, Mary saw her father's own twitch and his jaw tighten. Obviously, he'd had no idea. At the same time, she felt anger rise through her.

"You did _what_?" she hissed, the goblet of wine she had picked up finding its way back to the table abruptly.

Recognizing the famous Tudor temper rearing its head, George tried to placate his wife by covering one of her hands with one of his own.

"Darling…" he began but she would not be deterred.

"How _could_ you?" she exclaimed, her voice loud enough to bring the Great Hall to a complete silence. "I always knew you to be a cruel and vindictive person. Sending my dear siblings away, especially today of all days – when the memory of their beloved and kind mother is honored – proves the truthfulness of my beliefs."

Beside Henry, Jane accused the shock of her stepdaughter's stinging words and took a deep breath.

"I judged it best for them to be away from court, especially with so many people flocking to London. The risk of sickness breaking…"

Mary's cold and sarcastic laugh stopped her mid-sentence.

"By all means, Lady Jane, entertain us with one more of your poor, pathetic, excuses." George's jaw dropped at his wife's audacity.

"Mary!"

She ignored him. Her blue eyes were fixated on the opportunistic woman sitting beside the King, pretending to be a paragon of virtue. If looks could kill…

"You may think you have me fooled like the rest of the courtiers, Madam, but I assure you I can clearly see through your deceitful words."

"You forget yourself, my Lady." Jane warned with confidence, irate to be spoken to so disrespectfully. There had never been any lost love between the two women and she had learned to accept her stepdaughter would never be anything more than civil to her but this was crossing the line. She was the Queen, for God's sake!

Henry, Robert and Thomas, seated between the two ladies, continued to eat quietly but were entirely focused on the argument taking place. The King, particularly, felt he should intervene – given that the Queen was being talked to in such an insolent manner – but a small voice inside his head insisted that his daughter must have a good reason to behave this way. He didn't even spare an ounce of concern that every courtiers present were being witness to such a scene. Neither did he truly care for the feelings of his - he loathed the reminder - wife.

Mary's eyes narrowed, her nostrils flaring. Beside her, George cringed.

" _I_ forgive myself, _me_ , a Princess of England? I am of royal blood, unlike you! You have some nerve threatening me, in any way, shape or form, especially in front of the King, who also happens to be my father...my own kin. Not very wise." Outrage fueled the anger pulsating within her veins. "Then again, your actions today…or rather inaction, let's call it what it truly was…showed just how little wisdom you do possess. Not only did you send my siblings away of your own accord while they deserved to be here but you also completely flouted the proper dressing code for such ceremonies, as opposed to every man, woman and child who participated, while also deliberately snubbing any honor due to Queen Anne's memory. And to top it all off, you came up with a truly ridiculous reason as to why you would not join the planned pilgrimage to her tomb. A pilgrimage, need I remind you, that you were informed of months ago."

"My concern for the health of my future child is in no way ridiculous…"

"It is! Do you really think we wouldn't know if there was even a shred of chance for a sickness outbreak anywhere in the Kingdom? Ever since the sweat took the lives of my mother, Thomas More and Cardinal Wolsey 9 years ago, just to name a few, God bless their souls, preventive measures have been created and implemented to safeguard the good people of England. Messengers are dispatched as soon as physicians detect any contagious illness. And, by God, are you so dense as to believe any self-respecting subject would deliberately jeopardize the health and well-being of any member of the Royal Family? They wouldn't."

"Still…"

"You had _no_ valid excuse, Madam. _None_. Even Doctor Linacre confirmed it was perfectly safe for you to take part in today's ceremonies but you refused for all, save this one. And even now, I can see how indifferent you are to the true meaning behind this feast and I see that as being nothing short of blasphemy! My dearly departed stepmother deserves to be honored. She gave England the male heir it so desperately needed and for that, her glory will forever remain in all our hearts. Her memory is indestructible and it makes me sick to my stomach to even have to see you sit upon her throne where she should be!"

"Well, she is not. She is gone and here I am, whether you like it or not."

Jane's tone, final and laced with contempt, was the ultimate straw for Mary. Her chest heaving, she abruptly pushed her chair back, stood up and walked down the dais and around the table. Facing her father, she gave a shallow curtsey.

"I apologize, Father, but as much as I desire to honor Anne's memory and take part in this feast, I must request permission to leave. I cannot stand to be one more minute in the presence of this hypocritical, selfish and undeserving wanton that profanes the throne she sits upon."

Jane's jaw dropped.

"Henry!" she exclaimed, deeply offended and expecting her husband to take up her defense as he should.

It only managed to reinforce Mary's anger and give her further motivation to finally allow her to express her heart's content fully.

"How dare you!" she nearly roared. "His Majesty, in all his wisdom, will not defend you because he knows I speak the truth. You are nothing more than a pretender to the sacred title of Consort and you will never, _ever_ , truly bear it! That honor will forever belong to Anne. Not even your very _timely_ fortune," she continued, pointing to Jane's slightly swollen midsection " – which is what landed you your current position in the first place – will change that. Anne remains, _and will always remain_ , England's true Queen and the mother of its heirs, including myself. As far as I am concerned, my Kingdom has no Consort."

Done with her tirade, Mary once more curtsied to the King knowing he would not stop her then turned around and left. As a show of unity, and vexed as well by the pale blonde hussy, George and his father also bowed to Henry and departed.

The silence permeating the room didn't immediately dissolve upon their leave. Instead, courtiers exchanged looks of surprise and disbelief. Never before had they seen their eldest Princess so furious or even witnessed such a display of defiance from her. But the most shocking of it all had been the King's willingness to let the argument escalate without intervening. Henry the Eighth was not known for his tolerance of any kind of scandal. That he had allowed such as scene as the one that had just taken place to occur could only mean that not all was well with the current royal marriage.

Recovering from their shock, the musicians resumed their playing once again. Following suit, courtiers returned to their conversations, morphing the chilling atmosphere of the Great Hall to a warm one anew.

On the dais, however…

Jane stared at her husband, her hands balled in fists. She could not believe he had allowed Mary to talk to her that way AND abstained from taking her defense.

Henry felt her eyes on him, bearing a hole through his skull. Slowly, he turned his head to meet hers but remained mute.

"How could you?" she asked, breaking the silence that had been hovering between them. "How could you allow her to talk to me this way? I am the Queen!"

He had tried…really tried…to keep his temper in check but her sickeningly sweet voice was just too much to bear. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear.

"Did you ever stop to think that my daughter is right? I did intend for the title of Consort to remain unfilled. I think it would do you good to remember exactly _how_ you came into your position, Madam, for without the child in your womb, you would _never_ have come so far."

He stood up and reluctantly bowed to her.

"Now, if you will excuse me... Pressing matters of state need to be tended to early in the morning so I will retire. I bid you good night. Excellency, I hope you have a safe travel home."

Without another word, he rapidly walked away, leaving Jane no other choice but force a smile for the sake of all in attendance.

*/*/*

 **McKenzie Estates, Dukedom of Orkney, Scotland**

The Duchess of Orkney observed the chessboard in front of her, pondering her next move. Her eyes scrutinized her opponent's piece placement carefully, analyzing every possible movement which she could make against him. Then, she saw it.

A Cheshire cat smile spread on her lips as she reached for her white bishop and moved it in front of black king.

"Checkmate, my Lord."

Charles Brandon sighed heavily. He had lost…again. Pushing his king down, he nodded his head at her.

"Well played, my Lady. Once more, your wits have outsmarted mine. You are proving to be quite the skillful Duchess." Peals of laughter welcomed his surrender.

"Not at all. I simply think you do not have enough time to properly practice, what with all the duties placed on your shoulders."

"You are far too kind, Lady McKenzie." Reclining in her chair, she raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"What you do have perfected, however, is the use of my titles."

"A necessity requited by what the coming future entails. It would not do to slip and endanger all of our carefully hard-earned work."

"Indeed." she agreed, reaching for her cup of tea and taking a sip. Her sapphire blue eyes found the horizon and roamed the endless sea visible through the open window in front of them.

Across from her, Charles reclined as well, observing her delicate features.

 _William was right to be concerned._

His friend, Lord William McKenzie, Duke of Orkney, had informed him upon his arrival that he harbored worries for the Duchess. Judging by the dark circles clearly visible under her eyes, she had not been sleeping well. He couldn't blame her, of course…not after learning of what she had been through…what she probably had been reliving at night these past weeks if Lady Lockhart's testimony was to be believed.

It was to be expected, in some kind of cruel and twisted way. Nobody who went through such a traumatic experience and been scarred so deeply could remotely forget.

Charles closed his eyes, the familiar warmth of anger forming in the pit of his stomach. He remembered, so vividly even now, every detail of the nightmare she had been subjected to as it had been conveyed to him three months ago by the man who had saved her. Edward Seymour.

" _My Lord Suffolk, I know you are in shock but you must listen to me."_

 _Shocked had been the understatement of the moment. Charles had been more than shocked. His best friend's wife…his friend…his Queen…had not died as every soul in England had been led to believe. She had not perished in the fire that had utterly destroyed Wolf Hall nine months prior after giving birth to her son like they'd all thought. She was alive…alive and healthy now that she had recovered…and living in Scotland as the Duchess of Orkney…_

" _She's alive." he had murmured, realization slowly sinking in as Edward pushed him down on a nearby chair. "It isn't a dream, is it?"_

" _No, my Lord. She is not a mirage or a trick of the mind. She is truly alive." He'd barely heard the other man order two ladies to fetch two goblets and a bottle of whisky._

 _Then, it had sunk in fully._

 _Anne was alive. That meant… Henry wasn't a widower! His new marriage to Jane Seymour was unlawful and effectively invalid!_

" _Henry! We must send a messenger to him right away and let him know!" Edward had shaken his head firmly._

" _He can't."_

" _What? Have you lost your mind, Seymour? Henry_ has _to know Anne is alive!"_

" _He will but not now. For her sake, allow me to explain..."_

In spite of himself, he shuddered, his mind recalling every horrid detail; assaulted by his younger brother Thomas Seymour…violated…nearly raped…violently – nay, brutally - injured and left for dead to burn in an inferno set by that lowlife and their equally manipulative eldest sister…how it had taken months for her injuries to heal, at least physically…

The cracking of his knuckles broke her out of her thoughts.

"Charles. I am fine. I assure you."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"The circles under your eyes tell a different story." She sighed despite the smile that formed on her lips.

"I never thought I would see the day where you would become quite the mother hen worrying over me."

"By God, Anne! This is no funny matter!" he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "William had Dorothy disclose his concerns to me upon my arrival and I see now that he had a valid reason to be worried."

"I have experienced nightmares over the past two weeks, so what? All things considered, it shouldn't come at much of a surprise."

"It doesn't. Still..."

"Charles, while I appreciate your concern, I need you to trust me when I say I'm fine. A little sleep deprivation is nothing to worry about, especially in the face of everything to come." Nodding, he relented, recognizing the wisdom of her words.

Silence fell over them for a moment before he spoke again.

"Anne…" he began, his tone laced with apprehensiveness "…are you ready to embark in this journey, truly? There is still time to change to your mind. You can still choose to remain here and…"

"And what, exactly?" she challenged, her temper awakening. "Give up? Abandon my family; my husband and children?" The thought itself, as outrageous as it was, stirred the strongest sense of repulsion in her heart. It took every ounce of her control to stay seated. "Since when have you known me to forfeit in the face of a challenge? Have I not always risen to those placed before me?"

"Yes, but what is at stake here is your life! You were almost murdered!"

"Don't you _think_ I know that? Every single night of the past two weeks has reminded me of the fate I narrowly escaped. If it hadn't been for Edward, I would not be here tonight, ready to face my destiny and rise from the ashes to reclaim everything that has been taken from me!"

Her outburst reduced him to silence.

"Do you doubt me, Charles? Do you not deem me worthy of being your Queen anymore? Worthy of reuniting with the love of my life; of being a wife; of being a mother to my darling daughters and to the son I have never even been given the chance to know…"

"Anne…. No. Of course, you are. I speak not of doubts about you but of potential consequences if any one of us make a mistake and slip up. Thomas and Jane attempted to kill you once. I have no doubt they would do it again in a heartbeat if they were to find out you're alive before our goal is achieved."

"Let them try if they do." The Duke of Suffolk felt a lump form in his throat at the mere thought.

 _She can't be serious!_

"I fear for you."

"The sentiment is appreciated, but I believe your unease is misplaced. William, Edward, Dorothy, Anne, Cromwell and you have worked together for a year to seek justice for the wrongs that have been committed upon me and England. All we have to do is play our parts right and we will succeed. You all haven't worked this hard to fail."

"Unforeseen difficulties may arise." he reminded her.

"That's a possibility." she acknowledged. "And if it happens, we will deal with it. You will not deter me, Charles. No matter what you say. I have been forced to spend a year without my family – without Henry, Mary, Elizabeth, Rose and Liam –; forced to remain in a bed for six months recuperating from life-threatening injuries; forced to wait to be reunited with them for twice longer with very little news here and there. Nothing can be more difficult than that, I assure you. I am ready, come what may."

One look in her sapphire orbs was enough to see an incorruptible determination burning within. With one heavy sigh, he managed a smile.

"I wouldn't expect any less from you, my brave Queen."

Yet, he could see something else in her eyes. Embedded so deep within, he wondered if he was simply imagining things for a moment; the tiniest spark of dread.

"What is it?" he asked. "There is something you are not telling me, I can see it in your eyes."

She bit her lips, silently cursing his newly sharpened skill of observation.

"What if…what if Henry…has moved on?"

Her question had been spoken so softly that it had come out as nothing more than a whisper. Yet, Brandon had heard her perfectly. He had also anticipated something of the sort. Despite himself, he began to laugh, which only served to infuriate Anne.

"I fail to see how my question warrants laughter, my Lord Suffolk." she retorted sharply, part-hurt, part-angry.

Leaning toward her, Charles reached out to touch her hands.

"Anne, Henry may be wed to her now, most unlawfully at that, but his heart has always remained with you."

"She is with child." she pointed out flatly, the words hurting her to her very soul. "Ambassador Tulloch informed the Scottish court three months ago. Quite a contradiction to your statement."

"The child is irrelevant." His mysterious response piqued her curiosity.

"What do you mean by…"

Her question was interrupted by the arrival of her 'husband'.

"My Lord." Charles greeted, standing up.

"Suffolk. I have made sure that everything is ready for our departure."

"Most excellent! The Duchess and I had just been discussing the trip. I wanted to make sure she was ready."

"She was ready a fortnight ago."

"And what of you?"

William walked to the back of the chair Anne was occupying.

"I am equally ready as her Majesty and even more anxious to reunite a mother and her children. King James has officially bestowed the position of Scottish Ambassador to the English court upon me this afternoon, my nephew will take care of my estates in my absence and a messenger from Edward informed me our plan can be implemented as soon as we are settled in London."

"What of your household?"

"Anne has selected a few ladies to accompany her and I have several groomsmen at my disposal as well. The rest will stay here and continue service under Brandt's leadership."

"Very well. King Henry charged me to escort you to Hampton Court personally. The trip shouldn't take more than a dozen hours if we keep a steady pace, with one stop for a meal at Ludlow. I hope it is satisfactory."

"It is."

"You are expected to be introduced at a feast tomorrow night. We will therefore leave at dawn, if that is acceptable?" Charles asked, looking expectantly at Anne for confirmation.

"Perfectly." she acquiesced.

"Very well. I shall retire for the night then. I bid you both good night."

"Good night, my Lord Suffolk."

"Good night, Charles."

Once he was gone, William moved to sit down in the chair he had been occupying. For a few minutes, only silence reigned between them. But one look into her eyes told him something was bothering her.

"I know the prospect of seeing your husband and children again must somewhat scare you and…" he started but she interrupted him.

"I am not scared, William, but nervous…about the potential consequences of our actions. For a year now, we have woven this intricate web of lies and deceit and while I am glad it will deliver a well-deserved comeuppance to my would-be murderers in time, the inevitable collateral damage that is going to accompany the fruits of our labor makes me uneasy."

"You are thinking of the babe in that wench's womb."

Anne nodded.

"Amongst others. They are still English people and as Queen, I cannot help but care for their well-being."

William sighed. Reaching over, he grabbed one of Anne's hands tenderly.

"I understand, my Lady. But after everything you have gone through…all the suffering – physical and mental – … you, the woman, deserve justice. England deserves its rightful Queen and mother of its heirs back on her rightful throne. Not some opportunistic and adulterous murderess. Elizabeth, Rose and Liam – as well as Mary – deserve their mother back and no matter his faults, the King needs his rightful wife by his side once more. That is why we went through this elaborate scheming, planning and plotting. For you. All your pain of the last year, and beyond, will not have been in vain. You are indestructible and the world will know it soon enough."

*/*/*

 _Funny enough, the music I ended up listening to which inspired this chapter was Disturbed- Indestructible. It both describes this story and embodies the character of Anne perfectly._

 _As most of you have surely noticed, I am no fan of Jane Seymour. I apologize for those who like her but I would rather warn you that in my story, her portrayal will not be a kind one. I have always felt like she really was an opportunist and her obedience towards her family's wish to rise was far more willing than not. In any case, if you like her, you have been warned._

 _Also, you will most likely notice the absence of Jane Parker. I was never, ever, able to stand her, therefore, she died of the sweating sickness in 1528._


	3. Chapter 3

**Bed of Deceit**

 **Author's note:** As within the show, Charles Brandon in this story is younger than he was in reality. I just can't picture him looking anything less than the deliciously handsome Henry Cavill. Therefore, like most of the events in the story, his life was prone to changes to suit my purposes.

I also want to apologize for the time it took for me to produce this chapter. Life got in the way, as well as the writing of a book series I am planning, therefore, this got pushed back to the backburner. On top of an aggravating writer's block. Hopefully, the flow will begin to naturally get back on track from now on.

 **Reviewer love** : Big thanks to princessElizabethTudor, Rayside, Sakura, LadyHallows, Ciel the Sky Arcobaleno, paradiso31, Jaguarsolaris, HenryxAnnefan, QueenAnneTudor amongst others for the reviews.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own The Tudors or any character that belong to the show/history. However, all original characters are mine.

*/*/*

 **Chapter 3: Warrior**

 **Hampton Court, London, England**

 **Royal Nursery**

Mary was sitting on the floor, her hand shaking a rattle softly a little ways over her daughter, watching proudly as the four-month old infant, laying atop a pillow, tried to reach for it.

"A little more, my sweet angel." she heard her father whisper from across her. He, too, was seated on the floor. "Just a little more."

The young woman couldn't help but smile. He looked serene, for once, and completely at ease. A stark contrast to his usual mood, what with all the weight on his shoulders from ruling the Kingdom, dealing with the loss of his most beloved Queen and his horrible new marriage – at least according to her views anyway –. At that last thought, a familiar painful lump in her throat formed and her eyes misted with tears.

Just like her father, Mary had had great trouble dealing with her stepmother's death, more so than with her own mother. With Katherine, it had been quick, yet foreseeable after the doctor tending to her had recognized the symptoms of the sweating sickness. But with Anne, it had been so sudden that nobody could have possibly seen it coming.

Unconsciously, her left hand found its way to the rose-shaped amethyst necklace she wore and grasped it gently. It had been a gift Anne had given her the very morning prior to her death. The memory flowed to the forefront of her mind, as fresh as if it had only happened yesterday.

 _She had been on her way to meet George when she'd encountered Anne, leaving her apartments with several of her ladies. Her stepmother had looked so happy to see her._

" _Mary! What a lovely coincidence! I was just about to ask Lady Sheldon to find you. Do you have a moment?"_

" _Of course."_

 _Turning around to face her ladies, the Queen had smiled graciously._

" _Now, now. Go on and get ready for our outing, ladies. Nan and Madge will remain with me. Oh and Lady Vonn, please inform Sir Longley that we will be along shortly."_

" _Yes, your Majesty."_

 _Once the women had departed, Anne had turned back to her._

" _Come Mary. I have something for you."_

 _The four of them had walked back in the Queen's apartments. Once inside, her stepmother had sat down and motioned for her to do the same._

" _Nan, please fetch the dark red pouch on my desk."_

 _Mary had watched curiously as the chief lady-in-waiting disappeared in another room._

" _I have heard the good news…" Anne had begun, the smile on her lips widening. "Henry told me as we were breaking our fast."_

" _You are not angry, are you?"_

" _Angry? No! Of course not! If anything, I am delighted and equally as surprised."_

 _Mary had released a breath she'd had no idea she had been holding. The Queen had chuckled softly and continued._

" _My dear, you and I have been family for 7 years now and it warms my heart to know that bond will be forged anew, even stronger than it is already. You will no longer only be my beloved stepdaughter but my sister as well. While I did not see this coming, for you and George have been very discreet, I cannot help but thank God. You are an extraordinary woman, Mary, and if anybody is worthy of becoming my brother's wife, it's you."_

 _Her words had touched Henry's daughter to her very core. She'd been so anxious when George had informed her he intended to ask for her hand in marriage and obtain consent no matter the cost. If anything happened to him because of her…_

 _Over the years since Henry had married Anne in 1529, a comfortable friendship had developed between her brother and Mary on accountability of their familial ties. They were, after all, in-laws and George – unable to act as protector to his younger sister now that she was a wife – had naturally shifted his brotherly duties onto his step-niece, even before she'd been reconciled with her father._

 _At first, she had found his overprotectiveness unbearable and annoying. She was a Princess after all and a Tudor at that! She didn't need a chaperone everywhere she went but despite her rather ill-treatment of him, he had persevered, always remaining a perfect gentleman. And soon enough, his charm and sincere genuine care had won her over. That had been her first lesson: if anything, the Boleyns wore perseverance as a second skin. She admired that._

 _When Elizabeth had been born in 1530, the bond between them had further grown and he had begun to visit her at Oatlands Palace – where she'd basically been exiled for more than two years – regularly, bringing her news of court and her sister alike. She had been pleased by this selfless devotion and had come to cherish those visits._

 _By that point, she and Anne had also developed a close friendship and grown to care deeply for one another despite the distance between them imposed by Henry. They corresponded weekly and the Queen was a frequent visitor at Oatlands. Those visits had also been cherished by her and given her hope that if she and her stepmother had been able to forge such a bond between them, her father would relent and welcome her back in his life in time. Much to her surprise, Anne had voiced her intentions to do everything in her power to make that happen, which had warmed the young girl's heart even further._

 _And it had happened. On Elizabeth's first birthday, her stepmother had arranged for George to spirit her to Hampton Court secretly and upon seeing her – as well as her interaction with both Anne and Elizabeth –, Henry had realized the mistake he'd made when he'd exiled his eldest daughter. He'd welcomed her back at court – and in his life – but remained steadfast in his iron will to exclude her from the Succession so his heirs with his new wife would never have their rights to the crown usurped or challenged by their older sister._

 _Mary, after those years in Surrey, hadn't even minded the exclusion. She had her father back in her life and was fully embraced by her in-laws. She was happy. It would do for her._

 _Her friendship with Anne had continued to strengthen over the years, to the point where she hadn't only seen her as her stepmother but also a second mother whom cared deeply for her well-being. She had continuously been by her side, through thick and thin. When the Queen had suffered a devastating miscarriage due to being poisoned in March 1532, she had stayed with her through it all, including the recovery. That event had essentially cemented their tie for good. When Rose had been born over a year later, she had been there to witness the birth. She had been by her stepmother's side through the difficult times of her pregnancy with Liam, including the scandalous incident with Jane Seymour. Through it all, the two women had become inseparable._

 _And discreetly, in the shadows, her bond with George had similarly evolved. But in 1534, after the death of Elizabeth Howard Boleyn, it had shifted into something more than simple friendship. Seeing him plunge into depression following his mother's death had moved her profoundly. The usually cheerful – and more often than not flirty – man had become a shell of his former self in his grief and she had taken upon herself to support him through the difficult times. It had paid off and shortly after George had regained his zest for life, he had boldly revealed his feelings to her…feelings he had been harboring towards her for two years by then._

 _She had been pleasantly surprised by his declaration and even more shocked when words of reciprocity had escaped her lips. And ever since, they had settled into an inconspicuous relationship, meeting in secret and outwardly appearing nothing but close friends. Not that they'd been ashamed, of course, but they had simply wished to retain their privacy and unwilling to risk the King's anger._

" _My father…how…When he informed you, was he…"_

" _Mad?" Anne offered, recognizing anxiety in her stepdaughter's voice._

" _Yes."_

" _Not at all. Quite the contrary, he was radiating happiness and pride. The subject of a potential marriage for you had come up quite often in the past year between us but we never agreed on any prospective suitor. I thank God George effectively put this matter to rest."_

" _I was so scared all day… When he told me last night he was going to ask Father for my hand this morning…"_

 _The Queen smirked._

" _I have to commend by brother and his courage. Challenging the King to an old-fashioned duel for his blessing must have been nerve-wrecking."_

 _At that bit of information, she had narrowed her eyes in astonishment._

" _What?"_

" _You don't know? Henry said George was acting very nervous during their meeting and couldn't blurt out the words so, in frustration, he grabbed one of the white gloves he had been carrying, walked up to him and promptly smacked him in the face with it! Needless to say, the guards almost arrested him on the spot."_

" _Mother of God!"_

" _But he apparently found his wits just in time and requested a duel to prove himself worthy of becoming your husband. One he, obviously, won, much to my pleasure. Therefore…" Anne had continued, accepting the pouch a returned Nan had handed over "…it is time for me to gift this to you." She had opened the small bag, shaking it lightly over her outstretched palm to dislodge its content._

 _It had taken Mary a few seconds to recognize the gift. Then, she had gasped._

 _In the Queen's hand laid a rose-shaped amethyst clasped to a fine golden chain._

 _She had seen that same necklace adorning Anne's neck often throughout the years at court. In fact, she had worn it on the very first day she had met the Princess as one of Katherine's new ladies-in-waiting._

" _This was given to me by my father shortly before I was sent to be educated at the court of Archduchess Margaret of Austria and belonged to my maternal grandmother. The stone represents something we coincidentally both have in common…our month of birth. I've cherished this for years and promised myself I would give it to my daughter on the occasion of her betrothal, hoping she would wear it on her wedding day..."_

 _The implication in her words had left Mary near speechless…_

" _Anne…I …"_

" _You may not be of my own blood but in my heart, you are as much my daughter as Elizabeth and Rose are. A daughter, a sister, a friend…you are all those things and I want you to have this as proof of my unconditional support and love."_

 _She had felt so honored and touched, tears had spilled onto her cheeks._

" _I can never repay you the kindness and favor you have bestowed upon me. My mother, God bless her soul, would be proud of how far we have come."_

" _You will wear it then?"_

" _Yes. I will wear it on my wedding day and beyond. Cherish it even."_

" _Good. Now, my ladies and I were leaving for one last day in the countryside before I am to enter confinement. Would you care to join us?"_

" _I would be honored to but George and I had plans…"_

 _She had felt warmth rise in her cheeks. The Queen had simply smiled knowingly._

" _Ah, young love! Do not fret, dear. I understand how precious private moments are. Go and enjoy yourself. But you and I will discuss the planning for your wedding tonight over dinner." With that, Anne had departed._

 _Never to return again…_

"Your mama isn't making it easy for you to reach your goal, isn't she, my sweet Bella?"

Henry's voice brought her back to the present. While she reminisced, he had picked the baby up from the pillow and now cradled her in his arms, looking down at her face adoringly.

"Thinking of her namesake?"

The second question had been directed at her and caught her by surprise.

"How did you…?"

"Know? The faraway look…and the way your hand found its way to the necklace you never part with. It was hers. I recognize it from when I first took notice of her. It was her favorite, second only to the traditional 'B'-shaped one."

"She gifted it to me as a betrothal present, hoping I would wear it on my wedding day like she had intended her daughter to."

"Yet another proof of how much she loved you."

Again, tears burned her eyes, threatening to spill.

"I know…I miss her, Father. Dearly. Yet, parts of her live on. In my siblings." Henry nodded.

"And in this little one as well." he added, caressing his granddaughter's cherub face. "Especially in her."

Mary couldn't help but agree with the King.

There was a reason why she had named her child partly after her former stepmother, moreso than simply wishing to honor her memory.

Her slightly darker complexion – as opposed to Mary's very fair one –, the raven black tuft of hair on her head, the sapphire blue eyes which acted as hooks for the soul…it was all Anne. Annabella was essentially a miniature of her namesake.

Every single time she, George, Thomas or her father looked at the child, all they saw was the former Queen. And, as if that wasn't enough in itself, there was an old wisdom swimming within those blue orbs. If Mary didn't know better, she could almost believe her stepmother had been reincarnated in her daughter.

"I never did quite thank you." Henry continued, breaking her out of her thoughts again.

"For?"

"Naming her after Anne." She chuckled.

"Was there really any other appropriate choice?"

"Well…no." The King agreed, smiling. "But it does not change the fact that I never thanked you for it. It still feel honored you did so. After all, you would have had the right to name her after your own mother."

"I had thought about it but it just wasn't right. Do not get me wrong, Father, while I know Mother loved me very much, Anne just naturally went above and beyond for me. For that, she was more of a mother to me than Katherine."

If the words surprised Henry, he didn't let it show. He knew just how close his daughter and late wife had gotten over the years and for her to say that wasn't such a stretch. Mary continued.

"She also carries a remnant of my grandmother's name as well. I thought they would go along well together because, according to stories I was told about Isabella, both women had steel strength and a brave spirit in common."

"They did. If one didn't know better, it is almost believable to think of Anne as kin of your notorious ancestress."

Silence once more filled the room as memories of the departed Queen flooded the King's mind and an expression of deep longing settled on his face.

With a knot twisting in the pit of her stomach, Mary hesitated to voice the thoughts that had been on her mind since the previous evening.

"Father..." she begun tentatively, unsure of the reaction her words would provoke out of him. To be quite frank, a little part of her was afraid he wouldn't understand and get angry. "I…"

"Out with it, Mary. You know you can tell me anything. You have never withheld with me ever since Anne reconciled us so please, don't start now."

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and forced the words out.

"I want to leave court."

A deafening silence was the response to her statement, causing the sound of her rapid heartbeat to echo in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she had no idea whether her father was about to erupt in a rage or simply didn't know what to say.

The silence extended for a few minutes before she dared open her eyes. Much to her shock, Henry still looked calm and serene, rocking her daughter back and forth in his arms. It made her wonder if she did truly voice her wish out loud.

Just as she was about to repeat herself, Henry finally spoke.

"Why?" he simply asked, locking his eyes with hers.

"I want Annabella to have a childhood akin to the one my husband and his sisters had. Carefree, healthy and without any of the restrictions that come with living at court. I want to watch my daughter grow up in the countryside and develop a free spirit like Anne did. I want her to become her own little person. Court would not allow that for her. I know it because I lived it firsthand."

"You want to move to Hever."

"Yes. Not right away, of course, but after the Scottish Ambassador and his wife are settled in."

"I see."

Henry's eyes returned to his granddaughter, who was now softly squirming. Carefully, he stood up, along with Mary, and handed the baby to her mother.

"Annabella's wellbeing is not the only reason why you want to leave, is it?"

Mary hated how her father read her so well.

"No." she reluctantly admitted, unwilling to straight-out lie to him, settling her daughter comfortably against her chest.

"Jane… You also want to depart because of…Jane."

"I cannot… I cannot stomach… She is no Queen. Anne was and seeing Jane pretend like she is even remotely fit to hold the same position…it is unbearable. I cannot fathom how you were able to marry that wanton when I know, deep down, your heart still fully belongs to Anne…"

"I had to…" Henry acknowledged, his voice barely above a whisper "…for the child's sake. It – he or she – is innocent in all this and should not suffer for the sins of its parents."

"You could have recognized the child, Father, without marrying her like you did with Henry Fitzroy."

"You are right, Mary. I could have. But the Privy Council had already started discussing a new marriage and prospective brides… So when Jane told me she was with child…"

"…you saw a way to placate them."

"It was a cowardly move, I know, but yes." The shame on Henry's features was clear as day and he lowered his head in a futile attempt to hide it from his daughter.

"After everything she put Anne through, including narrowly killing Liam in the womb by arranging for her to find you two in a compromising situation…"

"I know Jane's faults, Mary. I can see right through the image of virtue she pretends to be and I have no illusions where she is concerned. She is nothing more than a political tool I used to wiggle my way out of a difficult situation I should have dealt with in the first place. I may have fancied her once upon a time, during a weak moment or two, but I do not love her. I never did and never will. However, I made my bed and I have to lay in it now. It is my punishment from God for nearly giving in to the temptation of straying away from my only lawful union and I will _not_ weasel my way out of it. I may be miserable but I brought it all upon myself and will assume the consequences of my actions. I owe that much to Anne's memory."

The dejected expression on her father's face caused Mary's heart to bleed for him.

"If I could turn time just once, if only to deliver you from this torment, I would. It would also allow me to tell Anne just how much she meant to me, something I never had the chance to do."

"She knew, my pearl. Of that, I have no doubt."

At that moment, another voice flowed through the room from behind them.

"May I intrude?" Henry turned his head toward the door and smiled at his newly arrived son-in-law.

"Of course, you may." George bowed slightly and walked in, crossing the distance between the door and his family in only just a few strides. "I heard you went hunting with your father. I hope you enjoyed it."

"I did, your Maj…"

"Huh, huh!" Henry interrupted. "I already told you, George, I will not have formality when we spend time as a family. You are my son as well as ex-brother-in-law. Call me Henry."

"I apologize, your M…Henry. But yes, it was enjoyable. We managed to kill two foxes and a deer. They were taken to the royal kitchens as soon as we returned. We thought it would please you, given our knowledge of how much you like hunting."

"I appreciate the gesture."

Extending his hand, George touched his daughter's cheek softly, causing her to wrap a tiny hand around his index finger.

"Darling, what's this I hear about us leaving court soon?" he asked his wife. "When I visited our apartments to wash and change after the hunt, Sir Norris enquired about everything I wanted packed and shipped before our departure. Imagine my surprise."

"Pardon me, husband, for not consulting with you about the matter first but I think it best we retire to Hever with Annabella so she can have a childhood like you and your sisters had. Anne always spoke so highly of how carefree and wonderful it is there."

"It was and I understand you want that for our darling girl but, my sweet, I am a member of the Privy Council. I can't just up and leave like that. I have duties and…"

"George, with your father back at court, I see no reason as to why he can't take over your post like you did for him when he left for the Netherlands last fall," Henry interjected, touched that the younger man took his duty so seriously. He had also noticed how Mary's eyes had filled with disappointment at the mention of having to reluctantly stay. "You have managed his estates since then, on top of your own, and while I admire how well you've handled your duties for the Privy Council, I cannot ignore Mary's wishes. Her will to raise Annabella away from court and offer her the peace of the countryside stems from genuine motherly care which I share. Being King, I never had the opportunity of doing so but you can. And I want to give you the chance to seize it. Like I said to Ambassador Tulloch last night, there is never enough time to spend with our children. You blink and next thing you know, they start talking, walking and develop a personality while you are none the wiser. You have earned the right to go and enjoy time with your wife and child, free of the strictness of court etiquette."

Hesitation swam in the cobalt blue eyes of the Duke of Ormonde, his duties as a courtier and as a father raging against one another within his heart.

Henry, painfully aware of the internal struggle, decided to play his infallible and ultimate trump card. He felt he had no other choice, being unwilling to use his rank to order his son-in-law.

"Anne would want you to do that."

There it was.

His Achilles heel…his beloved departed sister.

Near immediately, a lump formed in George's throat and he closed his eyelids, tears forming beneath them, burning.

Both Mary and her father noticed the sudden and barely contained burst of emotions, yet said nothing.

They were all very well acquainted with that pain.

"Thank you, your M…"

One frown from Henry stopped him short and his cheeks took a faint reddish tint.

"I mean, thank you, Henry."

The King smiled genially.

"No, George. Thank _you_. For making my daughter the happiest I have seen her since she was born and gifting me this precious little angel as a granddaughter."

"Mary is very easy to love," George responded, kissing his wife's temple delicately and encircling her waist protectively "…once she allows you to…" he added, jesting and simultaneously earning a mocking glare from her.

In turn, the monarch was barely able to repress a soft snicker, though he very much had to agree with his son-in-law.

"Nonetheless, you three essentially bring the only joy in my life now that Anne is gone. Therefore, all I ask is that you visit regularly."

Mary nodded.

"Of course, Father."

Following suit, Henry approached his daughter and kissed her temple, before caressing Annabella's cheek once more and finally, turning to George, squeezing his shoulder.

"Forget Court for a time and enjoy the quiet and peaceful moments with your family. I will talk to your father and arrange for him to take over your duties."

And with that, Henry departed.

The couple stood there in silence for a few minutes before George spoke.

"It saddens me to see him so unhappy. Oh, he tries to put on a brave act for his subjects but I can see underneath the mask."

"So can I," Mary readily agreed, leaning against her husband "Alas, he believes he must endure this farce of a marriage as penance for his transgressions against Anne."

The Duke of Ormonde, though he vehemently wanted to say something in response, wisely kept quiet. Both he and his wife knew of Henry's many shortcomings when his late wife had been concerned but refused to dwell upon them. Not now.

Not ever.

No one was perfect and the mere fact the King of England could acknowledge his many mistakes was enough for them. No need to stir the proverbial pot.

And thus, George changed subjects.

"Thanks to your display of defiance last night, you, my dear wife, have become the second most-talked about topic at court. Gossip is running rampant."

"Let it be so," the Duchess retorted, her head held high "…for I am not going to apologize nor be sorry for my actions. I meant everything I said."

Pressing his lips to his wife's forehead, Anne's brother barely concealed a smile.

"I know, Darling. I also happen to agree with every single point raised and am proud of your strength for doing so. You reminded me so much of Anne; a fiery warrior…"

"Thank you, husband. I am glad to see you pleased over…"

George stared into her beautiful blue eyes.

"But…were you not the King's daughter, being so insolent towards the… _Queen_ …" he barely got the word out, his stomach churning "…such behavior could have cost us our heads."

Mary sighed and faced her husband, caressing his cheek. She knew he was right; knew deep down her blood ties to the Royal Family had allowed her to cross that fine line.

Still, she would not apologize or change a single second of that encounter.

"Enough talk of _her_. I do not wish to sour the precious time we have with our sweet daughter."

"Agreed. Such precious moments shall be cherished and devoid of any negativity."

Smiling mysteriously, the young woman looked down to the babe in her arms.

"I sent a missive to Lady Champernowne this morn, along with Father."

That earned her a surprise look from her significant other.

"Oh?"

"Elizabeth, Rose and Liam should be on their way back to court as we speak. They never should have been sent away."

"Agreed."

Then, she hesitated, unsure of how to breach the next topic she had in mind.

George, however, noted the small hesitation and smirked.

"I can see the wheels turning in that beautiful head of yours, sweetheart. What is it?"

Mary hid the ghost of a smile that flashed on her lips. Her husband knew her so well…

"I was thinking…why not bring them to Hever with us? Provided my father gives his consent, of course…"

"That…isn't a bad idea, Mary. In fact, I think it a splendid one. The country air is always good for children and their health, after all."

"That was part of my reasoning."

Pulling her against him, he kissed her forehead again.

"Father, Uncle and I are scheduled to practice archery this afternoon. I'll make sure to make mention of it, to test the waters, so to speak."

"That, husband, would be perfect," Mary replied, noting that their daughter was now sound asleep between them, nestled in her arms.

George followed her eyes down to their child and smiled sneakily, calling out to one of the nursery attendants, whom just happened to be crossing the hall right that moment.

"Madge."

The former Madge Sheldon, now Mrs. Henry Norris, stopped in her tracks and looked inside the room, lighting up at the sight of her cousin and his wife.

"Yes?"

"Would you mind taking Annabella to the nursery and tucking her in?"

Mary was about to speak up when George hushed her, took their sleeping daughter from her arms and handed the infant to his cousin.

"Thank you."

Once Madge was gone with their child, Henry's daughter turned inquisitive eyes to her husband, waiting for an explanation.

It came quickly, just as he picked her up in his arms and absconded down the hall to their living quarters with her.

"As we discussed the other night, she needs siblings…"

A joyful laugh echoed through the hallway following those words.

*/*/*

 **Ludlow, England**

 **Kind Queen's Inn**

It was a little past noon when William, Anne and Charles reached Ludlow and decided to stop for a quick meal.

As much as the former Queen wished to reach London as quickly as possible and lay eyes upon her children, she also knew they needed to not only be secretive but also patient.

Their plan to get revenge upon her would-be murderers and restore her to her rightful place was a precarious one and needed to be exacted with cold calculation and efficiency, not haste.

None of the players could risk make a wrong move, lest the whole operation crumble and leave pain, heartache and misery in its wake. For all involved…

It was a risk Anne was not willing to take.

Therefore, she had to play the part of the sickly Scottish Duchess of Orkney to perfection, her face hidden behind a dark veil she had been careful to lift just enough to allow her to eat.

Of course, her attire drew the curious looks of most of the Englishmen and Englishwomen present in the establishment, but the presence of the Duke of Suffolk was enough to keep them at bay, something she was grateful for.

Next to her, William and Charles were in deep discussion about the welcoming ceremony Henry had planned for his new Scottish Ambassador and what was expected of them when it came to decorum, which in truth did not surprise Anne at all. Her only point of contention really was Jane's inevitable presence – that would-be Queen wannabe and murderer – and she swallowed the last piece of her mutton with great difficulty at the thought of seeing that pale wench again, this time draped in the colors of royalty.

The mere thought gave her chills and her stomach churned.

Thankfully, she was drawn out of her dark thoughts by the arrival of none other than her savior – Jane's own elder brother -, Edward Seymour.

His wife, Ann Stanhope Seymour, made a beeline for her and Anne soon found herself lifted from the bench she had been sitting on into warm arms.

"Anne! How good it is to see you! It's been so long!"

"Shhhh!" Anne gently admonished in a whisper, hugging the other woman in kind "The brouhaha of the place may have masked your faux-pas just now but you must remember, it's Elisabeth or Your Grace. Not Anne."

"Of course," the Viscountess Beauchamp replied, a slight reddish tint to her cheeks "Forgive me. I simply am too delighted to finally see you again, this time in full health."

Indeed, the last time the women had been in each other's presence, the former Queen had been comatose, recuperating from the fallout of Thomas and Jane's horrible – and nearly lethal – actions.

Underneath her veil, Anne smiled warmly, recognizing the truth of the other woman's words.

"As am I, my dear Ann."

"You will then be happy to learn she has obtained a position in Princess Elizabeth and Princess Rose's household as a governess," Edward informed her, clearly beaming, stepping up to the table behind his wife, whom moved to the side in order to allow him access to their friend.

Reverently, he reached out for Anne's hands and gently took them in his own, squeezing gently.

For anyone else who knew of the long-standing rivalry between the Boleyn and Seymour families, this gesture would have been downright weird, but for everyone here involved, it was a telltale sign of unity and loyalty.

"I must say, aside from the veil, you seem well."

"I am, Edward. Fully healthy and recovered. Alive…thanks to you. I have never been given the chance to properly tell you how grateful I am for your intervention and…"

Smiling, he sat down on the bench alongside her, with Ann doing the same across from them, next to Charles and her sister-in-law, Dorothy, serving as the Duchess of Orkney's handmaid/lady-in-waiting.

"Nonsense. It was my duty, as an English subject, to protect you and prevent any more harm to come to you. You were…no… _are_ …my Queen…and a dear friend. A friend whom saved my life in France all those years ago, when you had no reason to…"

"Edw…" Anne began, only for the Viscount to interrupt her.

"It's true. Our families have always been rivals, from the time of our great-grandfathers' land dispute. But you still took it upon yourself to have me brought to Calais after finding me gravely injured in those woods and nurse me back to health yourself, and that in spite of attending on Queen Claude. You did not let the bad blood running rampant in our families affect your good judgment or opinion of me; you listened to your benevolent instincts and I owe my life to you. Without you, I wouldn't be here. I repaid the favor... for a dear friend."

Charles, Dorothy and William, albeit surprised by this revelation, did not comment or dared ask any question, preferring to keep those for another day.

Besides, they had more pressing matters to discuss.

And so, the Duke of Suffolk cleared his throat, half-unwilling to interrupt this heartwarming display of affection and half-acutely aware of the fleeting time.

"Have all arrangements been made when it comes to lodging, Edward?"

The elder Seymour brother nodded solemnly, finally turning his attention towards Charles and the Duke of Orkney.

"Everything is in order, as can be expected. The King has insisted the Duke and Duchess reside at Hampton Court, of course, in living quarters that are ready to receive their Graces. He has been rather generous with expenses, for they have been entirely redecorated. That will not be a problem, I dare hope?"

The question had been addressed to Anne directly, whom shook her head.

"Not, it will not. Though I would have preferred to be lodged anywhere else but where your sister parades as my apparent successor, I will make the best of it."

"Has his Majesty been informed of the Duchess' delicate condition and her physician's recommendation?" William then asked, not-so-subtly referring to the genius plan Dorothy had come up with as to hide Anne's identity; the dark, almost opaque veil she would wear for the foreseeable future outside of the living quarters.

"Not yet," came the reply, from Ann's lips "We judged it wiser for you to offer the explanation, your Grace."

The soon-to-be confirmed new Scottish Ambassador offered a small and curt nod, acknowledging his willingness to do so.

"Most prudent, indeed, my Lady Beauchamp. No one, aside from my Lord Suffolk and Lady Seymour, would possess such knowledge in any case."

"My Lords, may I request your presence outside for a moment? We have important matters to discuss before we depart."

William and Edward needed no more prompting and quickly followed the beckoning Duke of Suffolk outside, leaving the women together.

They weren't out the door for more than ten seconds when Anne spoke.

"Tell me, Ann. How are the children? Mary? George?"

She had missed a lot in the last year and was quite eager to get a fresh update.

Missives had not been safe and so, the only news she had gotten from England had been through the Scottish court, which was not all that warm towards her home country these days, especially in light of Jane's clear favoritism of Spain over any other nation.

"Despite her obvious sadness only a few can detect, Elizabeth is thriving, becoming more and more fluent in French, Latin and Spanish every single day. The Lady Champerwowne believes she will be adding German and Flemish to her curriculum very soon. Rose has now started to take after her, though she is less proficient, but given due time, I have no doubt she'll be as astute as her older sister. As for William, he is the most joyful, healthy and curious little boy I know. He took his first steps at 8 months, in front of his very proud father."

At the last mention, Anne felt the color drain from her face and her heart clench painfully.

Her previous thought that she had missed a lot suddenly flared; she stood corrected.

She had not missed a lot; she had missed _so much_.

Because of the veil, the Viscountess was none the wiser as to the emotions brewing inside her friend and continued.

"George and Mary are well. They are wed and have a beautiful healthy little daughter they named Annabella…"

Another pang hit Anne's heart, this time mixed with pride. She and her stepdaughter had come so far; to know her niece had been named – at least partly - after her was solid proof of their endeavor.

"…looks after her siblings with devotion and care, just as fervently as before. Her loyalty remains to you, even after all these months, as she demonstrated just last night."

That caught Anne's attention, startling her.

"What do you mean?"

Edward's wife smiled wickedly.

"She caused quite the scandal when she stood up to Jane at the feast honoring your memory and told her, in no uncertain terms, what every English subject has had in the back of their minds for months; that she is no Queen and could never even hope to measure up to you, both for the Realm and in Henry's heart. She didn't mince her words and then _walked away_ without looking back."

"What of the King? Did he speak up in my sister's defense?" Dorothy inquired, speaking for the first time, hoping that it wasn't the case.

As much as she knew she should uphold Seymour loyalty, the young woman had never shared the animosity their father, Thomas, Elizabeth and Jane held for the Boleyns, rather taking after her mother's softer and forgiving approach, for indeed, Margery Seymour had tried to instill such benevolence in her children, only succeeding with Edward, Henry and herself. And speaking of Henry, his decision to move away to Scotland and distance himself from John's court ambitions had inspired her to do the same, though she had ended up working for the Duke of Orkney, as a lady-in-waiting to his late wife, Elisabeth, whose identity Anne now assumed for the time being.

"No."

Though Anne had felt anxiety at the prospective reply, a part of herself afraid Henry had already forgotten her and grown fond of his false wife – in spite of Charles' reassurances it was far from the case -, the negative answer acted as a soothing balm to her tortured soul.

The Lady Beauchamp continued, still oblivious to her friend's inner thoughts.

"He seemed to agree with everything the Princess said, even going as far as leave the festivities early, _without her_. And, from what Lady Norris and Lady Saville reported this morn before Edward and I left London, he even exchanged rather harsh words with her before he departed the Great Hall."

"As was within his rights, I'm sure."

Thanks to her veil, the surprise etched on Anne's features at Dorothy's indifference flew under the sisters-in-law's radar.

"Oh, it was. In spite of her mask of an innocent paragon of virtue, your sister is quite arrogant, prideful and even, dare I say, insolent at times with courtiers whom do not belong to her retinue. Especially to those who belonged to Anne's and refused to enter her service once she managed to secure her _temporary_ grasp on the throne."

The next words were whispered, barely audible over the noise of the conversations surrounding them.

"Charles said something along those lines as well…about the temporary grasp…"

"Henry does not love her, A…your Grace. He has made that very fact known to his closest friends, courtiers and his chief minister. He only married _her_ because she was an easy solution to avoid being manipulated into a political marriage, as the Privy Council had begun to pressure him."

"And yet, she is with child…"

"Yes, but… do you not find it convenient?"

Dorothy raised an eyebrow.

"Are you saying Jane tricked the King into bed?"

" _If_ the babe is truly of royal blood…"

Both Anne and her lady-in-waiting stared at Ann.

"Would you put it past her, knowing how much she sought to replace Anne, doing everything she could to distress her while she carried the Prince of Wales? Need I remind you that while your sister was not openly implicated in the poisoning attempt which killed their Majesties' second child and nearly cost the _true_ Queen her life, it was highly suspected she had a hand in it?"

The youngest of the Seymour girls stayed quiet, though her face paled.

Obviously, she had not known about that, having moved to Scotland before her father had moved her ambitious family to London and court.

"Mistress Hawkins swore on her soul that she was innocent of the crimes. I believed her, but the proof brought against her was staggering, as the vial was found in her belongings and she was part of the small retinue whom tended to the delivery of the Queen's meals. And yet, no one ever stopped to think of the two other persons whom shared those living quarters with Rachel at the time; Jane and your other sister, Elizabeth."

"Lizbeth would have never…"

"I agree, Dorothy," Anne interjected "Elizabeth was never fond of me but she was respectful and is too gentle a soul to commit such an act. Just like you, Dorothy."

"I agree as well, though she has publicly acknowledged her initial opinion of you was influenced by her family and has changed following her marriage to Master Cromwell's son, Gregory. She may serve as a lady-in-waiting to Jane but she does so very reluctantly."

Silence momentarily fell on the table, each lady remembering –with some varying degrees of sadness – the tragedy that had befell the royal couple in March 1532.

"Anyway… With some luck, you will be able to see the children shortly after your arrival, as they should be on their way back to court."

"On their way back?"

Ann looked to the rightful Queen of England with a small smile.

"Thought Jane thought she could get away with sending them to Hatfield yesterday, the King – at Mary's insistence – recalled them at the crack of dawn this morn. Given we will most likely step foot back in London just as the sun sets, I imagine they will be present…which brings me to another point we must discuss. Your Grace, when you see them, you shall be very careful in your actions, as to not arouse suspicions."

"I will play my part. Do not worry for me. Though I have missed them dearly, I am perfectly aware that I must keep my motherly impulses under control where they are concerned."

"You are a warrior; your strength will carry you through these difficult times as we all work together, including Master Cromwell, to vindicate and restore you to your rightful position," Edward said, stepping behind his wife and resting his hands on her shoulders. Beside him stood William and Charles, the latter whom spoke.

"If we want to reach London before sundown, we must leave now."

They all moved to stand up.

"Wait!" Ann said, reaching for her goblet. Raising it high in the air, she pointed it toward Anne. "A good luck toast…for the most gracious, kind and ever-loving Lady I know. May God bless our endeavor and bring back the light in England's dark, dark world."

Whole-heartedly agreeing, they all reached for their goblets and raised them.

"Here, here!"

*/*/*

 _Funny enough, the music I ended up listening to which inspired this chapter was Disturbed- Warrior._

 _You may have noticed that I have deliberately misspelled Anne Stanhope Seymour's name as Ann. I thought it wise to do so to differentiate between the two women and it makes it easier to know which Anne I am referring to._

 _Similarly, I have combined sisters Margaret and Mary Tudor into one (like the show did) and retained the former's name as to not have too many Mary's. Because of this, the Greys were eliminated from this story._


End file.
